Killer Unchained
by Centroides
Summary: This is a response to a reviewer who asked about the reference to Chief sleep walking in 'All That's Left'. Slight change in destination but here it is. As for what happened in Scotland, I cannot write about a place I have never been, want to go there but ...
1. Chapter 1

**Killer Unchained**

**Chapter 1**

He stood in the darkened hallway listening, smelling the dry musty air. Nothing moved, not even the air. Outside, he knew there was a breeze, carrying cool night-scented air, air that was fresh, clean and alive with the sounds of the night. He couldn't breathe this air. It was dead and he had had enough. No air could get in here. The windows were nailed shut and the doors were locked and barred. There was no worry about intruders, the fear was of escapees.

Indian Residential Schools were here to lift up the savages and teach them the white man's ways. That way they could improve their lives but to do that they had to leave their homes, their parents and families behind. There were those who embraced this new life. Those who did not would not be allowed to leave. They were prisoners.

N'Kia was older than the children when he was brought here. He had lived free, free to roam the land, free to hunt and learn. Being imprisoned, forced to sit still for hours, forced to march endlessly was a hell that his soul could not tolerate. He had tried, though not very hard, but he could not do it. He had to get out. He had to breathe the fresh air, run with the wind; he had to be a free man again.

He was not the first to try to escape. He had seen others try. He watched and learned. The only way was to fight. Others had tried slipping away but the men on horseback always found them and brought them back. They were punished.

He would not be back. He would not be punished. Goyen had told him of the old ways. She told him the stories of the raids against the Mexicans and the white soldiers. He would live and die like the Apache warriors. To stay and live was to die slowly. To fight and kill as many as he could, was to live a warrior's life. To die fighting was to die a warriors' death. There would be no one to tell the tale but he would know. And in the end, if he escaped alive, then he was free. He would live free or he would die free.

He blended into the darkness of the hall. It matches his eyes and some say, his soul. His thoughts are dark right now. He looks around. He knew this place. He spent two years in this hell hole and though he resisted learning a lot of things he did learn which floor boards creaked and which doors squeaked. He could move around silently.

He listened for a moment. All was quiet. He reached over and turned the door handle just enough to make a sound, then stepped back into position. He waited and after a moment he was rewarded. The door opened slowly. From his position against the wall he could not see the face that peered out but he knew it well. A small wizened man in a long night shirt, his thinning white hair tousled from sleep. A whispered inquiry went unreturned so the figure stepped out to look. His arm snaked out and around the scrawny neck before he could react.

Pulling the thin body to his chest and twisting the head, he was rewarded with the sound of his neck breaking. He held still and listened. No sound, so he lifted the body clear of the floor and moved into the room.

The smell of old and decay was sickening. The smell of dead flowers lingered in the room but could not cover the decay. The man blanched. Memories of these smells would haunt him forever. But now the man associated with the smell would never hurt him again.

He lifted the body and dropped it on the bed, covering it with the bed clothes. It would not do to have him discovered by a night wanderer before he was done. Silently he moved back into the hall. The next room contained a man who was a sound sleeper. He would not awaken even as he slashed his throat. The blood would gush out over his hands but a quick wipe on the end of the man's robe hanging on the end of the bad would remove the worst. A quick dip in the wash basin and he was on to the next perpetrator. He was the killer but they were not innocent victims. They were killers, killers of souls and spirits, killers of childhood, killers of innocence and the innocents. He had made it his mission to put an end to their killing. The end justified the means. They would say he would burn in hell for what he was doing but that did not bother him. He was burning in Hell right here. His God did not condemn him. He was freeing the children for his God. They would no longer be ripped from him' no longer be forced to turn their backs on the God of their people, turn their backs on their parents. They would be free to choose the God they would follow, as he had chosen.

The third room, he passed by. He heard two people in there. As much as he wanted to interrupt, he wanted no witnesses. No one should have to witness what he was doing.

On through the dorm he moved.

The next sleeper awoke as he was about to end his life. A hand over his mouth prevented the scream but in the moon light he saw the look on the man's face. Terror. He had seen that same look on the children as they arrived at the school. He was frightened. Why was he frightened? Didn't their bible teach them they would not die but have eternal life? Did the man not believe what he had been teaching them? He paused, confused.

This was all the prone figure needed. His body went into motion as he prepared to fight off his attacker. Knowing the element of surprise was gone he raised his knife as the intended victim screamed. He plunged the knife into his victim and the cry changed. The thrust had not been true but it was enough to stop pursuit. He turned and ran. He had to leave now. He flew down the stairs and headed for the entrance. No, it was locked but the small chapel window would be easy to smash. Chief pushed the door open and ran down the aisle.

Suddenly his legs were smashed out from under him and he went flying before crashing into …

Chief awoke with a start, confused. He looked around, still confused and frightened. The room was dark, lit with only the moonlight that lay across the floor. He was lying on the floor in front of the cabinet in Garrison's office, his head hurt, his thighs and knees screamed. What was he doing here? He rolled over to get up when the lights flared to life. He turned to look to the door and saw Garrison standing, bare chested, with a gun pointed at him. He froze.

"What are you doing?" the armed man asked tensely.

"I, uh, I, I don't know."

"Get up." Garrison watched the play of emotions flicker across the other man's face. He had also gone through similar uncertainty. He had been asleep when something had woken him. He had no sooner put on his pants to check for an intruder when he heard the crash. It had to be one of the guys. Damn them. If they had enough energy to horse around at night then they had enough energy to do more calisthenics, or laps or something. When he had looked in the door of his office, he had seen the figure crumpled in front of the cabinet. The tray that had been on the corner of his desk was missing.

What was Chief doing in here? The cabinet had been left by the owner and contained nothing but some linens. He watched as Chief got up gingerly favouring his legs. Putting two and two together he figured that Chief had fallen over the corner of his desk. To do that he had to have been moving fast or he would have just bumped into it.

Suddenly remembering the dream, Chief raised his hands and looked. They were empty. He checked but there was no blood. A quick look on the floor and again, no knife. It had to have been all a dream, a nightmare. His heart was slowing back to normal.

Garrison watched and wondered. He had been prepared to blast the intruder but the look of confusion on Chief's face and his actions, had diffused his anger. There was also the fact that Chief was wearing only his shorts so he was not trying to escape. Besides he knew their escape route was out the window of their room. It was late and there was nothing here that couldn't wait to be discussed in the morning so he simply said, "go back to bed."

Trying not to limp, Chief left the room and headed for the stairs. He would have liked to go outside but he did not want to ask. Back in their room, he went to the window. It was small but it would do. He inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the lingering dream. Why? Why had he dreamed that now? He hadn't thought about that part of his life for a long time. And the killing… What did it mean? What if he had had a knife in his hand? Would he have killed someone? He looked to the other cots. They were all peacefully occupied by living, and in at least one case, snoring sleepers.

What had triggered the dream? Did it mean anything. Why kill his team? He didn't hate them. This was a good gig. So something had triggered it but what. Was it their last mission? He thought back.

A Resistance Cell had been discovered and several individuals, including the leader, had been arrested. The rest had dispersed. It was up to the gorillas to try to rescue any being held and try to unite the factions who were left. The cell had provided information about the movement of German ships in the area and the Allies did not want to lose that.

They had arrived in Holland by boat and made their way to Breskens. This was where the cell had been centred. Garrison made contact with the one surviving member that they knew of and he told them that the major Nazi Headquarters was across the channel in Vlissingen. He had been able to arrange passage on a fishing boat to take them there.

Uniforms were acquired in the usual manner and Actor and Garrison as his aide went to make inquiries. The German Officer in charge was crafty. Actor's rank, the highest he was able to find was not sufficient to cow the commander. Each time Actor steered the conversation around to his objective, the commander bolted off onto a new topic. Either the man was very good or he was determined not to lose his prisoner to anyone. Four hours and a bottle of Schnapps later, the two imposters took their leave empty handed.

Chief watched as Garrison paced. They had to find out where the men were being held but they were out of ideas. Several suggestions had been floated but each was found to be lacking. It was late and they finally decided to sleep on it. Casino returned to his station, on watch for the last of the rotation.

Later, Chief went out to relieve the safe cracker but instead of going back into the warehouse the safecracker headed out towards the city's edge. Chief knew Garrison wouldn't like it and he said so but Casino just smiled. He knew Chief would say nothing. He was not a rat.

Maybe an hour later, Chief heard the signal, Casino was returning.

"Give me a minute then come inside," he said cryptically as he passed.

Once inside Chief saw that Casino had woken their leader. Actor had heard and was sitting up as well. There were no lights but enough moonlight to show silhouettes.

"What does Ergriffen, um Vught mean?"

"Why?"

"I overheard two soldiers talking and…. they mentioned…"

"What soldiers?" asked Garrison.

"And where were they?" added Actor.

"That doesn't matter," started Casino.

"Yes, it does."

"Do you wanna hear this or not?" demanded Casino. He had had enough and they knew it. No one spoke and Casino calmed a bit. "Now you made me forget what he said. If you had just…"

"Calm down and think back to where you were when …"

"Yeah, yeah," interjected the safecracker raising his hand as if to wave their suggestions away. " I heard the guy's name."

"Jonckheer?"

"Yeah. So I started listening. The one said, what sounded like, what happened? The other said," and he paused looking up to the ceiling as he ran it through his head, "Ergriffen, um Vught." He looked to Garrison, then Actor to see what their reactions would be.

"Taken to Vught," the two men said in unison as the leader pulled out his map. In their excitement they forgot about where the soldiers were that Casino overheard but Chief didn't. He also smelled the alcohol when he had passed him outside on the way in.

The Indian waited until the two were engrossed in their map. He would have liked to see where they were going but he was curious about where Casino got the booze and the information. He caught Casino's eye and motioned him outside. Casino looked to be unsure so he cocked his head and gave him the 'you owe me' eye. The two men slipped outside.

"So where'd ya get the booze?"

"There's a little place that stays open for the soldiers down that road and to the left."

"An' you went in when it was open?" Chief asked with a tone that said he thought the guy was stupid.

"Yeah," he answered, with his usual sneer. "I was thirsty. All I did was put my money down and point."

Goniff arrived before they could continue. "Casino, Warden says to come in." The two left and Chief remained on watch.

Later, when Chief woke up he heard Garrison, who had relieved him, waking the others. "Chief, once you've eaten, we need transport. It's about a hundred miles so make sure you got gas."

To prevent fatigue, Chief and Garrison took turns on the long drive. The country was flat and so different from the country Chief was used to. So too were the many canals they crossed. What he did find somewhat familiar were the stone buildings and the massive cathedrals. The one in Breda was so large that he could see it over the rooftops. France was like that too. He couldn't imagine how they were built. Someday he was going to go see inside one in the daylight.

Finally they neared their destination. The first thing they noticed was the increase in military traffic. Fortunately there were no check points to slow them down. Even so, it took them a while to locate a safe place to stay. Chief hid the truck, though they did not think the news that it had been stolen would have reached this far. Better safe than sorry.

"Actor, you're on me. We'll go into town and see what we can find out." Garrison then turned and glared at his safe cracker. "You three stay here." Casino put on his innocent face but it was just for show. "Chief, you rest up. Casino, you take the watch, then Goniff."

Chief rounded on his betrayer. "What's goin' on? Why do I gotta rest?" Were they planning something for later that they hadn't told him? Or did he think he was tired from driving. As soon as he spoke he saw Garrison's reaction. Damn, why did he shoot his mouth off. He knew Garrison had a reason. He always did. Chief was embarrassed.

"Because while you and I were wrestling that crate, that needs an alignment, they were in the back sleeping. Now it is your turn to rest and theirs to work."

Chief turned away and tried to look busy. He did not want anyone to see how foolish he felt. He was tired a bit but not enough to sleep so he went to the window and looked out. Later, he would find a place to stretch out and relax for a bit. The others would be gone a couple hours, he had time.

He did not. Within fifteen minutes Casino pulled open the door and whispered, "We got company. Come on."

Chief and Goniff ran to the door and the three ran. Finally they felt safe enough to stop. "'Oo was it, Krauts?" asked Goniff between gasps.

"No." Casino was winded too. They had not gone far but they had travelled fast. "Three old guys."

"Resistance?" asked Chief. "Maybe the Warden sent 'em."

"I don't know." He took a deep breath and released it. "I wasn't about to ask. We'll go back and see what they're doing."

The three men moved cautiously until they could see the building they had recently occupied, then stopped. There was no sign of anyone. Automatically, Chief moved forward. He made his way to the side of the building and inched closer to the window. A quick look and he ran back to the others leading them a safe distance away. "They're torchin' it."

"Arson?" queried Goniff.

"Or could be a diversion," suggested Casino. "If we follow 'em, maybe we'll find out."

"Yeah, but the Warden's expecting us to be here. You heard what he said." This last was for Casino's benefit. He ignored it as Chief knew he would.

"We could split up. Chiefie, you follow'm and Casino an' I'll stay 'ere, let the Warden know. But whatever you decide ya better make it quick. 'Ere they come."

They watched as one of the men emerged, looked around, then moved off. The other two followed. Unseen, Chief moved into position. The warehouse they had chosen was at the edge of the commercial section of town and did not look well used. Inside were a few boxes and crates. It had a look of abandonment. The old dry timber was going to burn hot and fast.

All went well for Chief until the three men split up. They had walked several blocks to the retail section then the leader picked up a bicycle, left at the side of a building, and peddled off. The two remaining men continued to the next block where the next man entered a store and the last one turned down a side street. He walked to a narrow doorway and entered. Chief noted where each man had gone and returned to warehouse which was now spouting black smoke. There were no sirens and no one seemed to have noticed. Chief found the others and they moved away far enough not to be noticed but within sight in case their team mates returned.

It did not take long for the siren and fire brigade to arrive. With the place fully engulfed, there was nothing they could do. Also arriving, were two more civilians. Three other civilians materialized nearby and then they all slipped away. Once they were far enough, Chief reported what had happened.

"Think it's a diversion?" asked Casino.

Garrison looked at the fire brigade, the fire then to the town. "If it is, what for?"

"Maybe we can use it," suggested Actor.

"Let's go. Chief, where's the truck?" Without answering, the Indian moved off followed by the others.

Following Garrison's directions, Chief drove the truck to the main road then southwest outside the city. From there they turned northwest. Less than a mile later, Garrison signalled a turn. They had not gone very far when a German Light Armoured Vehicle approached from the other direction. It pulled across the road blocking their approach.

Chief watched as the door opened and a soldier stepped out. As he approached his window, Chief's heart rate increased. If he had been on his own he would be dead. He leaned back and tried to relax. The Warden would take care of it. The soldier approached with hand gun drawn. Words were exchanged as Chief tried to look uninterested. The soldier yelled something at Chief and glared. This time he did not have to pretend fear. Finally Garrison said, "Danke." Then he waved his hand signalling to back up while he said "Zuruckfahren," to Chief. He nodded and prepared to shift gears as he waited for the soldier to step back.

The Armoured car followed them all the way back to the other road then waited until they were out of sight. At Garrison's request, Chief pulled over. "So what's going on?"

Garrison got out and moved around to the back. Chief followed. Once inside, Garrison explained. The Nazi's had built a camp down the road they had tried to travel. Political prisoners were being held there.

"So that's where our guys are being held?" asked Casino.

"That would be a safe bet," answered Actor.

"An' we're supposed to break'm out. Just remember the last time we tried that. Guy's died an' it coulda been us." Goniff wanted to make sure Garrison was not thinking of doing that again. They all saw that he was.

"We need a closer look." He pulled out his map. Chief leaned in to see. "Chief?" That was all it took. The two men slipped into the trees and made their way into the woods.

It was quite the hike, though at least the ground was level. Less than a mile in, they saw the watch tower through the trees. They moved in closer. In front of the tower, were a barbed wire fence, then a wide ditch of water and another fence. Along the outer fence they saw more towers. This was not going to be easy.

Beyond the outer defences they could see rows of long low buildings. A few people dressed in black and white striped uniforms were moving about slowly. The two men watched for a time then at the leader's signal they pulled back and began moving along parallel to the camp. Garrison wanted a view from another angle.

It took them several hours before they started back. As they walked parallel to the fence, the two Allied intruders froze as gunfire erupted to their left. Shades of the first time they tried breaking into a prison. Was an escape plan going into motion? No, that would have gunfire from inside the camp, on their right. This was definitely outside. Was someone else trying to break in to free the prisoners? They carefully lowered themselves down into a crouch to make themselves a smaller target them worked their way back the way they had come. There was a pause in the gunfire then shouted orders. They sounded German but too muffled to understand. They moved in that direction.

As they got closer they came to a large ditch filled with water. On the other side they saw German soldiers guarding prisoners. They were digging. Graves? The soldiers must have killed some of the prisoners and the others were digging the graves.

Chief felt sick. He had been a prisoner and had been threatened by the guards but he had never had to dig another prisoner's grave after watching him being shot. Then it got worse. Once the graves had been dug and the bodies hauled into them the diggers were rounded up and shot as well. Garrison turned away as the shots were fired. Chief made himself watch. He knew the image would remain. It paid to hate the enemy. That hatred kept you from flinching and prevented you from feeling sorry for them. It made it easier to kill them.

The watchers in the wood turned away as the German soldiers finished the burial and returned to the camp. This was not war, it was murder. With heavy hearts they returned to their teammates.

It was a quiet group who made their way to the edge of town. Finding a place to park out of sight, they crawled in the back and sat. No one looked, no eye contact was made as they sat lost in thought. Each wished they were anyplace but here. Casino thought even Levenworth was better than this. It was worst for Chief and Garrison. They had been there. Each imagined how the poor prisoners felt, having to dig the graves knowing they were next or did they think they were going to be spared. To not be selected for the first round meant living a little longer but then you had to witness the execution. Probably better to be in the first round.

Chief knew Garrison would not leave. He would come up with something to get inside that camp. The last time they had kidnapped the Commandant's son and traded for the man they wanted. That was unlikely to work here. Even capturing the soldiers who had to carry out the murders were unlikely to be worthy of a trade. He had seen the shoulder patches. They were SS. They weren't known for their compassion. All he could do was watch and wait.

The night was cool and damp as Chief took the watch. He crouched about forty yards from the back of the truck. In the dark he kept seeing the prisoners beyond the fence that surrounded the camp. He could not see individual faces but they looked dispirited. He knew that look, had seen it in prison. As much as he tried to push that image away he could not. It haunted him.

Four hours later Garrison came out to relieve him and he returned to the truck. He had a few hours before dawn but sleep would not come. He finally gave up and climbed up on top of the truck. He would have liked to watch the sun rise but the sky was overcast. Within ten minutes he felt the first drops. He waited as long as he could then gave up and returned to the cramped interior as the drizzle continued to soak the land.

The next day dawned cool and cloudy. Garrison checked his watch. Allowing for the elapsed time, he would return again to see if he could force something. The rest followed, spreading out as they approached. The site was vacant. They would wait.

"What if we dug up the grave," started Goniff, "ta see if our, you know…." He looked uncomfortable as his voice petered out.

No one looked pleased. "No," said Garrison quietly. "We don't want them to know we've been here." They all looked relieved.

The men waited for half an hour for the returning soldiers but there was no sign of them. Chief was unnerved. The whole area here made him tense. He could not put his finger on it but it bothered him. He tried to tell himself that it was because prisoners had been murdered here but there was more to it. Finally he had had enough.

"Warden? How about I head over toward the camp, maybe see 'm comin'"

"All right, Chief. Be careful."

Chief felt better as soon as he was clear of that open space. It was not to last. As he approached the clearing around the camp he saw the watch towers. That was to be expected but from his position he could see one of the barracks and his unease returned as he watched several prisoners in their stripped uniforms being marched off into the distance. They disappeared around the corner of a building.

Chief took a deep breath and held it before releasing it quietly. He was drawn to the camp but it bothered him. Why? He settled into the underbrush and waited. Life in the camp carried on but no one left through the gate. He waited until late afternoon before returning to where Garrison had remained. They all returned to the edge of town where they found another abandoned building to sleep in.

The next day was a repeat with the same results until just before noon. Chief heard them before he saw them. Two large troop carriers rumbled down the road and entered the camp. Chief moved to a position where he could see where they were parked. The prisoners were assembled and those with a yellow badge were herded into the trucks. Once they were loaded they remained sitting under guard. Chief crept back and reported to his leader The two then returned to Chief's lookout and waited. The trucks sat for close to an hour before the gates opened they rumbled back out.

Neither spoke but both wondered about the fate of those in the trucks. The yellow badges meant something, they did not know what. That would come later. Being so far from their own vehicle meant they would have no hope of following them. They just hoped their men were not amongst those being transported.

Day three saw five frustrated men. Chief and Garrison would return to the camp and Actor, with the other two in tow, would go into town and listen. Garrison had already determined that the camp was run by the SS so they could not bluff their way in to carry out the rescue. There had to be a way and it was up to them to find out that way and use it.

The three cons were dressed as labourers. They thought this was safe, but they had not counted on the Nazi crackdown. They had not gone far when Actor decided to purchase some food. The shop was small so he had the other two wait outside. He was paying for his goods when he saw three soldiers approach his team mates. They demanded and, of course, got no response. This made them suspicious and before Actor could get outside they were marched off down the street. Actor, trying to look uninvolved, paid and casually moved outside in time to see the detainees put into a truck and driven away. He asked a fellow shopped what was going on and was told that all the young men had been rounded up and taken away. She had heard it was to labour camps in Germany.


	2. Chapter 2

**Killer Unchained**

Chapter 2

Actor was frantic, at least on the inside. Outwardly he was a concerned citizen but under the watchful eye of soldiers he carried his groceries down the street. He knew due to his size he stood out in a crowd. That was good when you wanted to command attention but right now he would have settled for small. He made sure he was out of sight before he altered his course to return him to the safe house they had selected.

Dumping his purchases he headed for the camp. Garrison would have to be told. With a sense of direction second only to Chief and Garrison he headed cross country, the truck was out of fuel. As he neared the area he whistled a tune that incorporated their signal. He was rewarded with an answer off to his left. The two men met in the middle and he explained the situation.

Garrison looked at his watch and said, "We'll have to…" He stopped and looked up as he heard the whistle and Chief appeared.

"I think we got trouble," he said then turned to Actor. "Where them other two?" The concern was evident on his face and in his voice.

"They were picked up off the street."

"Then I just saw them being dropped off in the camp. Casino don't look too good." Without another word the three men headed for the camp, Chief in the lead. They moved urgently until they neared the fence. From there they were more cautious.

"Damn, we need binoculars," ground out a frustrated and worried Garrison.

"Guard's got'um. Want me to get'um?"

Taken out of context, that comment would be laughable. Sure, just walk up to an armed enemy soldier and ask but the Officer knew Chief and what he was suggesting. He also knew he didn't have to tell him to be careful.

What Actor said was, "Do not get caught. We are a little short on rescues right now."

Chief tipped his head in acknowledgement and slipped away.

The camp was built to keep prisoners from escaping. The double fence with the towers on the outside would do that. No one could approach from the camp without being seen. The guards were trained to watch the camp. They did not expect the attack to come from outside the camp, from the countryside. Just to be sure he found a stone and lobbed it high in the air dropping it in the water filled trench. The guards would be alerted. Chief was then able to scale the tower and neutralize the guard. The binoculars were soon in his leaders hands.

A fast march back to town, another stolen vehicle and purloined uniforms and they were in business. Chief drove the military vehicle up to the city police station. Actor and Garrison, resplendent in their Luftwaffe uniforms exited the car after Chief opened and held the door. His wait dragged on but was probably fairly short. As the wheel man he did not have to take part in the con or worry about messing up. He did have to worry about the others getting caught and not being able to rescue them. He also had to worry about being confronted out in the street where he was alone. Fortunately he was not bothered though he felt the looks he was given. The populace were not fighting back but they did not embrace the enemy either.

Finally the two imposters in their borrowed uniforms returned to the car. The Oberst gave the orders to his driver and they pulled away. It took about ten minutes to drive to the camp gates where Chief stopped the car and waited. Finally a guard approached and Garrison, wearing a Major's uniform, informed him of their mission. They were admitted and Chief drove in the direction indicated by the guard. He assumed he would wait with the car but Garrison, Major Faust, indicated for him to accompany them. Maybe it wasn't safe for him to stay there or maybe they thought they might need him. Whatever the reason, he followed behind.

The camp was fairly new but still had a look of desperation. Beyond the inner wire he could see the barracks and some of the people. They were thin and their clothes were dirty and ragged but what bothered him the most were their eyes. They looked dead. It was as if the soul had died but the body continued to move. Even their movements were mechanical. He turned away and scanned the area out toward the forest beyond the outer wire. Seeing the watch towers he wondered if the guard had been missed yet.

The trio entered the Camp Commander's Office. The Major and the Oberst sat in the indicated chairs and he remained standing at rest by the door. Chief could not understand the words but he had been involved in the planning so he knew that the Oberst would explain that he had been visiting the nearby airfield when an object of great personal worth had been stolen. He had identified thieves, or at least their identities. From there he had tracked the men and had been told they had been picked up and sent here. He wanted them released to him so they could retrieve the item.

The Camp Commander, whose nameplate said Grunewald, looked to be reluctant. That is until Actor turned on the SS charm. Chief was impressed. Actor had to be the only guy who could out SS even the real SS. Grunewald was weakening, Chief saw the doubt flicker around his eyes. Actor said something that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Whatever it was, it did the trick. Grunewald stood and moved around his desk to be followed by the imposters out the door.

The procession entered the camp proper and the sight and smell intensified. As bad as Statenville had been, this was worse. Sour sweat from fear and unwashed bodies mingled with the pungent smell of urine and feces. There were also pockets of rot. More than a rat or a dog had died here and remained unburied. Again Chief saw the empty eyes. They did not made contact but he could feel them on him. They were watching, waiting. He wanted to take a deep breath to try to relax but couldn't. He did not want to breathe in the smell.

The guards rounded up the prisoners and the trio walked the lines. There were so many compared to the size of the barracks. This close, it was impossible to miss the rashes and welts and open sores on the prisoners' bodies. It was horrible and he wanted to get out of there but he would leave Casino or Goniff here. Hell, he didn't want to leave anyone here but there was only so much he could do. He walked on keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself.

Finally they came to the end. Where were Casino and Goniff? Chief was desperate. As much as those two irritated him, he could not just walk away. He knew Garrison and Actor were probably thinking the same thing. He snuck a look at their faces. Outwardly they appeared unmoved but Chief knew.

Actor said something that sounded like a threat, the Commandant replied coolly. Actor was getting angrier until Garrison made a suggestion. That was received with relief and the German spoke to a guard who hurried off. The Commandant led them to a low building with several doors set back to the side. The guard came running up with several keys and opened the first door. He yelled at the prisoner, probably to come out. Casino appeared. They all knew that if they were rescued, to assume a con and be prepared to play along. Casino looked immediately to Actor and saw the rage. Not that he would ever admit it but he was not acting when his step faltered and his breath caught. Fortunately he remembered enough to swear in German. Then remembering Goniff, he repeated it loud enough for the Cockney to hear. The guard opened the second door and Goniff peered out. He too, saw the look and hung back until he saw Actor pull out his service weapon and point it squarely at him. He stepped out and raised his hands. Goniff would never deny the terror he felt at that moment.

Chief could feel the fear, it was palpable. A tiny corner of his mind wondered how far Actor would go for a con. He wanted to step in and take over the weapon but feared over stepping his role. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding as Actor lowered the barrel. The Commandant said something and from his tone he sounded disappointed. Actor's answer did not sound nice. Maybe he said he could have them back when he was finished with them because the German laughed.

The two prisoners were herded to the car. Actor kept up the charade until they were well out of range and though he relaxed a bit, no one else did. In fact no one spoke even after they reached the safe house. It wasn't until Garrison broke the silence when he told Chief to take the watch.

As he left he heard Goniff say, "Blimey, I almost wet myself." No one laughed.

Actor said, "I had to be believable," but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Chief found a good vantage point up on the roof. There was a sheltered spot by the chimney so he crouched down to avoid the breeze that was coming from the east. It was going to be cold. As he watched for danger he thought about what had happened. Actor had been damn scary. He had met some tough guys in prison. He'd had to kill one of them. Sonny was a tough guy who ran the section he was in. The day Chief got out of the hole he was there, demanding. First it was cigarettes, they some of his food. Chief had tried putting him off but the guy kept harassing him. Finally he had had enough so when the guy pulled a knife on him he went for it and Sony ended up dead. There were other guys too. There was a guy on death row that used to walk in a separate yard beside the one they used. The guy had eyes that looked right through you. Just looking at him made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

Actor had been like that. Even on the sidelines he could feel it. He was glad he had not been in Casino or Goniff"s shoes back there. He was going to have to put this behind him if he was going to be able to work with the guy. You couldn't work with someone, trust them with your life, if you were scared of them. He was not sure how he was going to handle this. Should he talk to Garrison? Maybe he could figure this out.

No, he couldn't admit to Garrison that he was afraid. Besides, it wasn't like he was afraid of the guy. It was just, well, he wasn't sure. Maybe just leave it and see what happened. See how Casino and Goniff were handling it. Maybe it would be all right by the time his turn at the watch was over. All he could do was hope.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a sound. He waited but it was not repeated until a half an hour had passed. Again, he heard it but this time it was closer. Someone or something was coming. How close and what was it?

Best not take chances. He looked carefully around before slipping across the roof being careful not to present a silhouette against the sky. Once in through the window he crept down the attic steps to the room where the others would be resting. Garrison was talking to Actor. The map was spread before them. From the look on Actor's face they had not been discussing the mission. Chief knew the 'so what is the plan' look and this was not it. This was a 'none of your business look'. Had they been talking about what happened at the camp? No time for that.

"Warden, somethin' comin' this way. Couldn't tell what it was but we might have to move fast."

Without a word the three men went down the steps to the first floor where their team mates were resting. One look at their leader and they all grabbed their gear and filed out. Chief led them around to the rear and they moved off.

Garrison called a halt once he thought they were clear. He checked his watch then announced they were heading home. Chief wondered about the guys they were supposed to find. No one else said anything. He knew Garrison was not one to just quit so something must have happened. He had to ask. "What about the guys?"

"They were in that group we saw being executed," answered Actor. The raw pain in his voice was unmistakable. "The Commandant of the camp offered to dispose of my thieves like he had disposed of the leaders of the Resistance cell that he had captured. They are all dead." He took a deep breath and released it loudly, trying to release the pain that sat on his heart. Chief wondered it Actor had used that pain to act the way he did in front of Casino and Goniff. He probably wished he could turn it on that German. Too bad he couldn't.

That had been it for the mission. They had made their way back to the coast and been picked up by a trawler and returned to England. The men had all been quiet on the way home, each envisioning the families left behind. At least they would know their husbands and fathers had died working toward their freedom.

Back at the window Chief sat quietly. There was nothing on that mission that would prompt him to kill the guys. So what was it? He sat there until dawn, afraid to go back to sleep.

The day started out in the usual way. They assembled for breakfast then the Sargent Major assigned their training exercises. Sometimes it was target practice, other times gas mask training. Today was hand to hand combat.

"…. and Chief, the Leftenant would like a word with you in 'is office."

"What'd you do now, Indian?" asked Casino rhetorically as he followed Actor out the door.

Chief entered his leader's office. He was unsure anytime he had to report like this. Maybe it was about last night. He hoped he would not ask too many questions.

"Sit down." When he had complied, Garrison continued as he came around his desk and sat on the corner, the same corner Chief had apparently tripped over. "What was that about, last night?" He saw the twitch of the shoulders and said, "And don't say, nothing." He waited, the twitch interrupted, the shrug had died. "You were in my office, in the middle of the night. I think we can assume you were not trying to steal anything. Or were you?"

He shook his head. What was he supposed to say; he was dreaming about killing them?

"I don't know. I guess, … I was dreamin." He looked up to see if he believed him and to silently beg him not to ask.

He just stared at him but finally Garrison said, "All right. If these anything you need to talk about, you let me know." It was a release but also a warning. It said, 'I'll let it go this time but the next time will be different'.

Chief left and went outside to join the others who were going through the motions of hand-to-hand combat. They didn't see the reason. Mind you if the guards wanted to step in and play then that would be a different story.

"So, Chief, you get the strap from the principal?" asked Casino with a laugh.

"Yeah, three on each hand," he threw back.

"An' one on the ass for yer back talk," added Goniff just before Actor lunged and dropped him. "'ey. What you do that for. There's no need to get nasty. Gimme yer hand 'ere."

Actor obliged. "Sorry about that old chap", he said in his best upper crust English accent. They all laughed except the Sargent Major.

Later as the cons settled in to relax an hour before lights out, Chief moved over to where Actor was sitting reading. "Hey, Actor. You believe that dreams have meaning?"

"The theory I subscribe to is that dreams are our subconscious working on thing that are on our minds. So, yes, they have meanings but not in a symbols sort of way." He paused to see if this had answered the question. It apparently had not so he continued. "Was there a dream in particular that you are asking about?"

Chief had mulled this over all day. "Whata ya mean symbols?"

"For example, if I dream about a snake then it does not necessarily mean the same thing as if you dreamed about a snake. For me the snake might represent a rival; for you, it might just be suggestive of where you are in the dream, like local fauna, animal life. What did you dream about? Maybe I could help you decipher it. Whatever it was you have to figure out what it means to you."

That didn't help, thought Chief. He wanted to just forget about it but what if he dreamed it again. What if he had a knife the next time. He could not take the chance. Maybe if he put his knives somewhere, but where. If he put them somewhere then he could just go get them in his dream. They had to be locked up. But where?

Garrison. He had to give them to Garrison. But he would ask why. What would he tell him? That he was afraid he was going to kill them in his sleep? Damn.

He had no choice. He could not take the chance. This was the best gig he had ever had. He had gotten away with killing Wheeler because of the circumstances but a second time? No. He had to do it.

Before the Sargent Major could come and shut the lights off he headed out the door. Garrison was not in his office or kitchen or salon so he headed for his room. The door was shut and he hesitated, screwed up his courage by picturing the scene from his dream and knocked.

"Come."

Chief turned the knob and opened the door. Garrison was standing bare-foot and bare-chested by the side of his bed, his belt buckle undone. "Uh, I could come back tomorrow," he said nervously.

"No, Chief. Come in." He refastened his belt. "We can talk here or go to my office."

This was serious so he said, "Maybe yer office would be better."

The two men moved down the hall to his office and as Chief sat in the chair he had vacated earlier Garrison moved to the sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey. He placed one in front of his team member then sat in the chair beside him. Chief took a gulp and let it burn all the way down. He wanted to down the rest but knew he better wait. He put the glass back on the desk and said, "It's about a dream I had."

"Last night."

He nodded as he licked his lips. He wanted to take another gulp of whiskey but resisted. Instead, he laid his hands flat on his thighs. "Actor said dreams sometimes mean stuff, stuff our minds are thinkin' about."

"What was the dream about?" he asked calmly.

"I don't want you thinkin' that that's what I …" he started, his words running together before he stopped and looked down. "I don't feel that way, an' I don't know why I dreamed it, or why."

"Chief, it would help if you told me what happened in your dream. I think by now that I know you well enough not to jump to conclusions."

He looked the man in the eye. He had always treated him fairly even knowing that he was a convicted killer. Even when he told him about Wheeler, it had not changed anything. If he was going to get this thing settled he was going to have to trust him. Garrison sat calmly, watching him, waiting patiently, not demanding or even asking.

Chief looked off to the side, took a deep breath, exhaled and began. "I was at the Residential School an' I, well, I," he glanced at Garrison's face to see the reaction before looking away and continuing. "I was goin' down the hall and I," he looked down at his bloody hands, except they weren't bloody. "I killed the priests," he whispered, "that taught us."

He imagined the look on Garrison's face and jumped in with, "But I'd never do that, not here," He looked Garrison in the eye to make sure he understood that he was telling the truth. "I wouldn't hurt you or any of the others, honest, I wouldn't. I don't know why I dreamed that. I don't."

"Chief, did you kill them, any of them?" Garrison's voice was calm, reassuring.

"No."

"Did you want to?"

"Yes, no. I didn't want to kill them. I wanted them dead so I could get away."

"You didn't want to be there. Was it that bad?"

"I remember feeling trapped. It was so regimented, the yelling, the marching, the beatings. I just wanted to leave. I was used to being free, come and go as I pleased. Goyen never demanded. I did because I wanted to."

"You couldn't escape?"

"Yes, but they woulda come after me. I was afraid what they would do if they caught me. There was this one kid who ran. He was gone for three days before they caught him and brung him back. They stripped him and beat him in front of everyone including the girls." he hung his head in shame. "I was afraid, I was a coward."

"You didn't feel that you could escape safely so you bided your time. That was a good move on your part. You saved yourself the humiliation that would have resulted from a failed attempt. Don't feel ashamed for protecting yourself. You obviously did leave eventually.

"The good thing about this," continued Garrison, even though Chief looked at him as if he was out of his mind, "is that your killing in your dream has upset you. This tells me that that is not the real you. The dream was a way of fantasizing."

"But why now? That was years ago?"

"Did something happen that reminded you of that time?"

"No, not that I can think of." He shook his head sadly.

"Were there fences or barbed wire around the place."

"What? No. There was nothing. If you took off they had these riders they called and they came after you."

"Think about that camp in Holland."

"It was nothin' like that."

"They were trapped too. They couldn't get away either. Completely controlled. Prisoners."

That was when it hit him and he blanched. The sight of the camp, the desolation, the desperation, the dead look that he could see even though they would not look him in the eye. That was what had triggered the dream. In real life he walked out of that camp but he had not walked out of the Residential school. He knew of their pain though theirs was so much worse than his. He knew that if they survived, they would be scarred for life. There in the camp he had felt helpless to help them so in his dream he had helped himself escape.

He picked up his glass and drained it. Sitting for a moment he realized that it was almost a relief to know that he was not killing his team mates in his dream, he was killing those who held others prisoner. He stood and turned to his friend, "Thanks, Lieutenant. I better let you get to bed."

"I'm glad we got that straightened out, Chief." There was a knock at the door. "What is it Sargent Major?"

The door open to admit the man in question. "One of the, ..Oh, there you are. I was going to report one,.."

"Yes, thank you, Sargent Major."

"Right. Good night, Sir."

"Good night."

"Uh, just one other thing," started Chief causing the officer to look in his direction. "You won't tell the others about this will ya?" he asked trying but failing to sound nonchalant.

"No, Chief. What you tell me in confidence goes no further. Same goes for the others."

"Thanks again." Chief walked out and up to their room, his heart sad for the people they had seen but lighter for himself. He also, wondered if the Sargent Major reported in every night. The Warden seemed to have known it was him knocking.


End file.
